After the Storm
by LittlePrinceOfStarkhaven
Summary: After helping the mages rebel in Kirkwall, Hawke has been on the run for seven months. On a whim, she goes to Starkhaven for shelter and finds herself once again in a complicated relationship with Sebastian. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Seven long years she had spent in Kirkwall. It was hard to believe that so much time had passed, especially now. Now that everyone was gone, and she was travelling by herself, dodging the Seekers that the Chantry had sent after her. Sticking to the shadows and staying out of cities had kept her safe so far, but she wasn't so sure how much longer that was going to be the case. With every step she took, the Chantry was only a few steps behind, and they got closer with every second that passed. Even with all of her training as a shadow and an assassin, she wouldn't be able to put up a fight if a Seeker found her.

The road was all she knew now. It stretched out endlessly before her, urging her to press on until this whole mess was over. It hadn't taken her very long to learn how to survive in the thick woods that she often traveled through. Although she had gotten sick a few times, she learned what to eat and what not to eat. She learned what herbs made good salves for burns and cuts, and how to follow the migration of the animals that lived there. Her clothes, once fine and expensive, were now torn and dirty, worn from months spent living on the road and traveling through the trees. Her boots barely remained intact, threatening to fall apart at any second, and she couldn't remember the last time she had a long, hot bath.

The change that had been the hardest for her was cutting her hair. She had been so proud of her hair, how it fell past her shoulders and down her back like a golden waterfall. But after fighting tangles and getting assorted debris stuck in it, she had given up and hacked it off just below her chin. She kept it that length, even though she longed to have her old hair back. Being alone was hard to adjust to as well. She had gotten so used to the presence of her companions over the years, and now that they were gone, she realized just how important they had been to her. She missed Isabela's racy jokes, Varric's gossip, and Aveline's friendly lectures. She missed Anders going on and on about the plight of mages, and Fenris throwing veiled insults her way. She even missed Merrill and her absent-minded kindness.

But most of all, she missed her family and she missed her prince. Both had kept her strong in times of great need, and she felt lost without them. Bethany was no longer there to gently remind her of their real purpose, to joke with her about things the others didn't understand. Poor Carver hadn't even made it to Kirkwall, and she missed him despite how much he had resented her. And her mother. Oh, her poor mother. She missed her with all of her heart, and it still hurt to think that along with her siblings, her mother was gone from the world as well. And now Sebastian was prince of Starkhaven, and probably married off to another noble. It had broken her heart when he had returned to his home, but she had let him go, leaving not too long afterwards.

However, despite her promises to herself, she found herself travelling towards Starkhaven, battling the Free Marches and dodging Seekers left and right. It was stupid, suicidal even, but she needed to see him. Perching high in the branches of a tree, she could just barely make out the city, and even the castle. Her breath caught in her throat for her second, but she admonished herself and dropped to the ground, pulling her hood up to cover her face. Getting all lovesick and forlorn wasn't going to do her any good, especially when she was on the run. Pressing a hand against the bag slung over her shoulder, she set out for Starkhaven, determined to see Sebastian.

Getting into the city was harder than she thought it was going to be, however. Templars lined the gates, looking very alert. The easy way just wasn't going to cut it. After an hour and a half of searching, she finally found a hole in the wall and wiggled her way in, making sure her bag and her weapons made it through with her. Adjusting her cloak, she looked around briefly before making her way towards the castle. The streets were crawling with Seekers and other members of the Chantry, so she finally gave in and travelled across the rooftops, lying low when she had to. Before she knew it, she was inside the castle, sticking to the shadows and diving into empty rooms and hallways when she heard footsteps approaching. Where would he be?

Thinking back to her time spent with him, she decided that he would either be in his own room, the library, or in the Chantry that connected to the castle. So, sticking close to the walls and avoiding anyone who roamed the surprisingly empty building, she made her way to the library. He wasn't in there, but she could see signs that he had been there. Sacred texts lay on the floor as well as empty mugs and used resin. Kneeling, she picked up a piece of resin and inhaled, the sharp scent flooding her senses. She remembered his feather-light touch, the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and the warmth of his body. Slipping the resin into her pocket, she left the library and headed towards the top of the castle. Surely that's where his room would be, since she remembered reading something about how royals always lived on the top floors of their castles. After going into three empty rooms and having to knock out a maid, she finally found his room.

It was, without a doubt, his. Armor lay carefully hung and folded on dressers and hooks, his beloved longbow propped in a corner with his quiver. Books were scattered on the floor, as well as letters and other pieces of parchment. Curious, she picked up a letter that lay on his bed, unfolding it with great care. She immediately recognized her own handwriting and smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed and relaxing for a second. Not long after they had separated, she had sent a letter explaining her situation to him. It hadn't held even a small amount of her real feelings for him, but she had tried her best. For months she had been afraid that he hadn't gotten it or that he wouldn't read the letter. But it had been so carefully folded and placed that her heart swelled with relief. Maybe he did return her feelings. Sighing, she folded the letter back up again.

That was when the door opened and Sebastian came in. For a second, they stared at each other in shock, neither daring to move. Then she dropped the letter and scrambled for the window, quickly perching there and getting ready to drop into the trees below.

"Hawke! Wait!"

The urgency in Sebastian's voice stopped her and she looked at him over her shoulder, still perched on the window and ready to flee if she needed to. His blue eyes were wide with an emotion she couldn't quite place, but he had purposely fallen into a non-aggressive stance. Hawke reluctantly stepped back down, half-hunched over with her hood still up. While she had fallen apart physically, he had only become more handsome. Before, she would have said it was impossible for him to look any more dashing, but the fine silks he wore accented his figure and his face so well that she almost hated him. Here she was, a feral fugitive, facing down a prince. But he sighed in relief when she came back inside and smiled, those crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes. And his dimples. Oh, Maker, he still had those dimples.

"It's been a while," he said. "Seven months, I think. I wasn't sure if you were still alive or if the Seekers had finally caught up to you."

Hawke hesitated for a second before she answered, lowering her gaze to the ground and remaining hunched. He was nobility now. No, more than nobility. He was royalty, and she felt more and more out of place with every second that passed.

"Seven months, yes. I haven't really been able to keep in contact with everyone," she replied, leaning against the wall. It was support, even if just physical, and she needed it. "I apologize. It's hard to keep in touch with people when I'm living in the forests and camping out in caves while waiting for patrols to move on."

The smile on Sebastian's face faded and fear bubbled up in her chest. He was devout, and even though he had supported her decision to defend the mages in Kirkwall, she wasn't so sure that he wouldn't turn her into the Chantry. After all, there was quite a considerable bounty on her head. She slipped one hand into her bag and brushed her fingers against the cool steel of her knife, trying to calm herself. Even if he did turn her in, she couldn't kill him. Never would she be able to do that. But instead of grabbing for his bow, Sebastian stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. His smile returned, but it was much sadder this time, not quite reaching those beautiful eyes of his.

"I'm glad you're alive. A Seeker came to Starkhaven a couple of months back to ask me about you, and I had to hide the letter you sent me on a servant." His smile slowly evolved into a smirk and he lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "They probably didn't think I would be aware of the fact that they'd search my things."

Hawke's eyes narrowed and she pulled away from him, clutching the strap of her bag tightly. What was he trying to say? Obviously he hadn't let them know about his involvement in the rebellion, and maybe he wanted to keep it that way. Suspicion rose up in her and she slowly began to edge away. Months of living on the run and being hunted constantly had made her paranoid, and this was not an exception. Sebastian looked surprised and a bit hurt, holding his hands up.

"I was just going to say that you could take shelter here for a while, Hawke. There's no need to be so suspicious," he added with what was definitely an injured look. "We fought together, and I'm not going to turn you in when you need kindness."

Kindness. For some reason the word sent a stab straight through her chest. But she hid it well, pulling her hood further over her face. It was a silly reaction, stupid in so many ways. Now that she finally had an offer of hot baths and fine clothes, she was hurt because he had used the word kindness. But she nodded and relaxed her grip on the strap of her bag.

"I won't turn down an offer of shelter," she said. "It's been a very long time since I was able to sit and enjoy a meal or have a nice bath."

Relief flooded over Sebastian's features and he clapped his hands together. It was a strange reaction, considering the fact that he had a dirty, ragged woman standing in his room. But she wasn't going to push it, since she really wanted a hot bath. Did he have those scented oils her mother used to put in the bath? Oh Maker, she missed those. Hawke nearly got lost in thought and reigned herself in, clearing her throat as Sebastian motioned for her to follow him.

"We... don't really have a lot of people here at the moment. I'm trying to rebuild Starkhaven piece by piece but the Circle hasn't exactly been cooperative," he explained as he led her down the twisting halls of the castle. "So you can stay in one of the empty rooms here. There are private baths, so you don't have to worry about anyone seeing you." The last part seemed to be added more for his benefit than her own, but she didn't push the subject. "To be honest, it's good you showed up. You may be just what we need to get the Circle to work with us."

And there it was. For seven years, Hawke had lived for other people, making their lives better while her own crumbled to pieces around her. And now she was going to start helping people again, putting them before her own well-being. She had a sudden urge to tell him that such things weren't her problem, to run away, back into the forest. But she couldn't. There was no way. She was finally here, with him, and she would do anything to keep it that way. So she simply nodded and followed along silently behind him.

"The nobility here are a bit cut-throat, but I should be able to convince them that your presence here is a good thing," he said. He suddenly stopped and Hawke nearly ran into him, stopping just a fraction of an inch away from him. Her face heated up and she was relieved that his back was facing her. "They don't like that I'm stepping up to rule, and they're making it obvious. But they haven't tried to kill me yet, so that is probably a good sign." Sebastian started walking again and she heaved a quiet sigh of relief before following. "It'll be nice to have you watching my back."

"As long as you watch mine," Hawke replied, her voice coming out sharper than she had intended. "Well, what I mean is… Uh. Maybe it should be a mutual thing, since I have the Chantry and the Templars chasing after me. I wouldn't doubt that there are some mages who want me dead as well."

Sebastian chuckled and stopped in front of a door, opening it for her and motioning for her to go inside first. She gave him a small nod in thanks and headed inside, overwhelmed by how nice the room looked. It was probably the same size as her room in the estate back in Kirkwall, but it astounded her after months spent in caves and huddled under trees. It seemed so bright and warm and safe, unlike the life she had been living for so long. Pushing her hood back, Hawke took in the room and gently set her bag down in one of the chairs. Finally, she turned back to him and forced a smile on her face.

"Thank you, Sebastian. I appreciate you taking me in. Especially since…" she trailed off and then shrugged. "Since I didn't exactly give you a proper goodbye."

"Don't worry about it," Sebastian responded, waving the thanks away. "It's a bit selfish of me as well, since I'm asking for help. But make yourself at home. I'll be in the library if you need me."

Hawke nodded and turned to start unpacking the things in her bag. However, she looked over her shoulder again when Sebastian cleared his throat.

"Oh, and, uh. It's good to see you again."

He ducked out quickly and she was left in the large, sunny room to ponder what he meant, her face flushed. Well, at least she could take a bath now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The bath felt even more amazing than Hawke had imagined. As she soaked in the lavender oil-infused water, she let her eyes slowly drift close. It had been such a long time since she had relaxed, just let herself drop her guard. But the warm water of the bath soaked into her skin and calmed her, and she sank down into it until her knees were bent and the water gently lapped at her chin. Opening her eyes again, she reached out and grabbed the bar of soap she had found after some digging around. It was infused with sandalwood, and she had no doubt that this was some of the soap Sebastian used. Scrubbing at her skin, she frowned. Her once smooth and lightly tanned skin was now a dark tan color, covered with freckles. Scars from wounds she hadn't healed properly covered her skin, and she wished that Anders was still around. But he was dead, killed for his treachery. That familiar weight of loneliness appeared in Hawke's chest again and she sighed. She missed her friends, and she didn't even know if some of them were still alive.

Hawke finished scrubbing off the filth that had settled on her skin before she reached for the vial of liquid soap she had stolen from a locked cabinet. She doubted anyone would miss it, since there were several other bottles just like it in there. Pouring the soap into her hair, she attacked the filthy locks with a vengeance, pulling out tangles and scrubbing until her scalp was raw. Finally, she ducked her head under the water and rinsed her hair out, coming up for air once she was satisfied. Would it hurt to soak in the bath just a little bit longer? Probably not, but now the water looked absolutely filthy from all of the dirt she had scrubbed off and spending too much time in the bath might alert the other people who lived in the castle. Slipping out, Hawke shook the water off of her like a dog and reached for her clothes. No, those wouldn't do. She was in a castle, and she was the guest of a prince. Wearing ripped, stained, and filthy clothing wouldn't do her any favors. So she wrapped a towel around herself and snuck out of the bath, down the hall, and back to the room she was staying in. Surely there were still clothes in here, right?

Opening the wardrobe that stood in one corner of the room, Hawke ran her hands along fine silk gowns, dyed in colors that she had dreamed of wearing for months. But she skipped past the gowns and found a good tunic and pants, pulling them out. Wearing a dress after so many months spent in men's clothing just felt wrong, and she quickly pulled on the clothes she had found. They were too large for her, of course, and she rolled up the sleeves of the tunic and the legs of the pants. Retrieving her belt, she clasped it around her hips and sighed. The clothes felt so smooth and light against her skin, unlike the rough leather and cotton she had gotten so used to. It felt alien, and she was almost tempted to change back into her ruined clothing. But she pushed the temptation out of her mind and retrieved her bag before sitting down on the bed.

The entire room smelled like fresh air and clean linens, and it still put her on edge. Such scents had become alien to her, and she sat stiffly on the bed as she pulled out a large book from her bag. It had been Varric's last gift before they parted ways, and she had treasured it and kept it safe during her travels. Running her hand across the leather binding of the book, she hesitated before opening it. This would be her first time reading it, the story of her own rise to power in Kirkwall, and the beginning of the war between mages and Templars. And there, on the first page, was an ink drawing of herself, all curves and blond hair and green eyes. Varric had made her much more beautiful than she really was, but she smiled and flipped the page. Beautiful pictures in colorful ink filled the thick book, illustrating important milestones during her time in Kirkwall. There was the ogre she had slain, the chains of Kirkwall, and her sister and mother. She paused and touched the pictures of her mother and sister lightly, tears threatening to well up. But she swallowed the sudden grief that had risen in her throat and kept going through the book. There was Anders, so handsome and tortured. He had always pined after her, and she was sure that if he had just turned his attention elsewhere, he would have had his pick of many beautiful women. She missed him, and guilt rose up again. He had betrayed her trust, killed so many innocent people inside the Chantry, but there were days when she regretted killing him. Today was one of those days.

And there were Isabela and Fenris, such a striking couple. The Rivaini pirate had been one of her closest friends, and she smiled when she looked at the picture Varric had drawn. It was perfect, and she reminded herself that Isabela was probably out sailing, happy on her ship. Fenris looked brooding as always, and she smiled. He had gone off with Isabela, and she was sure that the feelings he had for the rogue weren't just sexual. The two of them were probably out plundering and terrorizing the seas, and she turned the page, confident that the two were happy. There was a picture of Merrill, lovingly drawn, the tattoos that had graced her face replicated with careful detail. She had always suspected that Varric was fond of the elf, but this confirmed her suspicions. She had no idea what had happened to Merrill, since she had left right after the battle, but she suspected she went to find another Dalish camp. Aveline was next, just as intimidating in her picture as she had been in life. Hawke hadn't always gotten along with the guard captain, but she had still been there when she had lost her mother and when she needed her in the battle. But she had of course stayed behind to help Kirkwall during its time of need, wishing Hawke the best.

And then there was Varric, looking a little bit more handsome than he was in real life. Hawke chuckled and shook her head, not at all surprised that her friend had built himself up to more than he was. Varric had a talent for making real life events much more interesting than they actually were, and the book wasn't any different. Everything was much more dramatic and he was, of course, right at the center of it all in the story.

Hawke flipped the page and froze, face reddening. There, right in front of her, was a picture of her staring at Sebastian with a lovelorn look. She quickly flipped to another page and tried to catch her breath, heart pounding in her chest. Had her feelings for him been so obvious? Of course they had, if Varric had included it in the book. A one-sided love, a champion denied, that was definitely quite a little twist the dwarf had thrown in. It would make her seem more human, even more sympathetic along with the death of her mother and siblings. The last of the Amells, and she was pining after the one man she couldn't have.

Reality came crashing down and she set the book aside, a deep ache filling her chest. Her mother had been trying so hard to find her a husband before her death, set on continuing the Amell lineage. But then her life had been snuffed out, and Hawke had been left alone, abandoned by even her uncle. There was no one left but her, and that fact hurt more than anything else. She had made sure that her mother's wish for a child to inherit the Amell name would not be fulfilled. Hawke had disappointed her mother in so many ways. Burying her face in her hands, Hawke cried for the first time in months, quiet sobs shaking her entire body. She hated crying, hated the sense of helplessness that would settle in, but she couldn't stop the tears. Her entire life had fallen to pieces, and she wasn't sure she could pick up the pieces. What would Leandra think of her daughter now, torn down from such a proud woman into such a wretch?

There was a knock on the door and she quickly wiped at her face, taking control of her emotions again. The fact that she had lost it so easily was a testament to just how far she had fallen, and it made her sick. But she found her control again and got up, opening the door. Sebastian smiled down at her, unaware of what he had just interrupted.

"I trust you had a good bath," he said, hands clasped behind his back. Seeing the way his face crinkled and his eyes glinted when he smiled made her heart ache even more, but she kept a straight face. "I'm going to go to the chapel, and I was wondering if you would like to accompany."

"Well, normally I would agree, but the fact that the Chantry is after me is gonna make the answer no," she replied, pain replaced with suspicion. Was he really that stupid, or was he trying to turn her in?

The look on his face affirmed that it was definitely the former, and he rubbed at his face. Still as naïve as ever, she noted. One corner of Hawke's mouth curled up in a smile and she shook her head. Of course he had forgotten. His beloved Chantry was supposed to be perfect and kind, and he was blind to how cruel people could be. Same old Sebastian, even though he had changed over time.

"I am so sorry, Hawke. I had completely forgotten, and even this branch of the Chantry could be dangerous for you," Sebastian said, looking very embarrassed. "I will tell the servants not to disturb this part of the castle while I'm gone, so you can have some time alone."

Hawke wondered how long he would be gone. Minutes? Hours? The rest of the day? She didn't want to be left in a strange room in a strange castle full of people who she was sure would gladly turn her in if given the chance. But she kept her mouth shut and simply nodded, turning her gaze to the ground. She waited for him to go, but instead, she felt a light touch on her shoulder. Hawke looked up, and met Sebastian's eyes. He looked sad, for some reason, but he still smiled.

"I really am glad that you're here. The Maker did this for a reason, and I will find out why," he said before turning and leaving.

Hawke watched his back as he left, leaning against the door frame. He had an awfully nice back, all broad and muscular. How many times had she watched him as he left? Too many. She sighed and went back inside, slipping Varric's book back in her bag and flopping down on the bed. Sleep sounded so good, so welcoming. Slowly, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to slip into a deep, deep sleep.

Later that night, Hawke snapped awake when she heard her door open. Someone came into the room, their footsteps light. Someone had found out that she was here, and she was not about to let herself get turned in. Slipping her hand under her pillow, she wrapped her fingers around the dagger she had stashed there, and got ready to attack the person approaching the bed. However, the familiar scent of sandalwood, yew, and resin drifted over her and she paused. Why was Sebastian here? She felt a weight on the opposite side of the bed and quickly closed her eyes, slipping her hand back out from under the pillow. His touch was light, hesitant, fingers gently brushing against her cheek. Hawke heard him sigh, felt him brush hair out of her face. Then his hand retracted and his weight left the bed, door closing again after a few seconds.

Hawke sat up and stared at the door, bewildered. What was that all about?


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Seeing Hawke again had been a mixed blessing for Sebastian. While he had longed for her company the past seven months, he had been getting to the point of finally accepting that he wasn't going to see her again. He had left the Chantry, gone back to Starkhaven, and taken over forcefully. Faith had started to slip away from him, and his visits to the chapel had become rare. He kept in touch with Varric, who had informed him that the Chantry was in fact hunting her, and it hadn't been long after that letter when he had gotten a visit himself. The one thing he still held precious from Kirkwall had been hidden in the bodice of a servant, and he thanked the Maker that his little trick had paid off. When he felt alone or lost in the world, he would pull out Hawke's letter and read it again, just to remind himself that he did have something to live and fight for, even if she was nowhere to be found.

When he had walked into his room to see her sitting on his bed, reading the letter he had kept safe, so many emotions had swirled up in him that he had been afraid he would faint right then and there. But he managed to dig up his old self and that had seemed to comfort her. Hawke had grown suspicious, and he had read it in every line of her body. So he put up an act, eased her down from the window ledge with who he used to be. She had been so thin, so dirty, that he didn't want her to go back to the life she had lived. So he lied and she trusted him, agreeing to stay. Seeing her had brought him joy and heartbreak at the same time, and he still wasn't so sure this was a good idea. So he had lied again, told her he was going to the Chantry to pray.

Instead, he went to his advisors and explained the situation. Servants and guards were kept on the top floor to make sure that she didn't leave. They wanted to meet the elusive Champion of Kirkwall, the woman who had set the world aflame. At the back of his mind, Sebastian felt guilty for deceiving her. But it had to be done. She would help pacify the mages, and he wanted her to stay. He didn't want her to leave again, and he didn't want to be brought back to the reality of his life again.

Sebastian Vael had become a bitter, brooding man after he left Kirkwall. The destruction of the Chantry and the death of Elthina had changed him, twisting him into a man more fit to rule a kingdom. He had mercilessly cut down the nobles who wanted to take the kingdom, and restored his rule after only a few short months. The people of Starkhaven did not know him as a kind, pious soul as Hawke had. He was a clever man, quick to quell any rebellions that rose in the kingdom. Unlike the great king Alistair, he was respected instead of loved, his temper feared. His faith had completely left him and he had the Chantry sized down, its presence almost completely disappearing in the city. Sebastian had built a new Starkhaven, and while the mages threatened to tear it apart, Hawke was the real threat. She was a link to his past, a woman he had loved dearly, and a clear weakness. If his enemies knew how much he cared for her, she would be the first person they went after when they tried to remove him from the throne.

His advisors told him to keep her close to him at all times, use her as a weapon instead of a companion. With her there, by his side, maybe the mages would let them build a new tower for the Circle, keep them within stone walls. After all, Hawke had been a rallying cry in their rebellion, a person they respected even more than their own prince. If she told them to be calm, he would have one less problem to worry about. She had become a key player in Starkhaven politics simply by walking in through the gates, and he pitied her for that. Dealing with nobles and politicians was worse than going to war, and the fact that they were so eager to use her angered him. But Sebastian was still a new prince, still building up respect and trust from his people, and insulting his advisors wouldn't help him.

Even now, he was unsure if he still loved her or resented her. Sebastian had left her, returned to Starkhaven while she had been getting ready to go on the run. He could still see the heartbreak on her face, clear and sharp as if it had only happened days before. When he had come back from meeting his advisors he had found himself in her room, almost as if getting there was a dream. Reaching out, he had gently touched her face, confirmed that she was indeed lying in front of him. He had brushed her short hair out of her face, admiring her delicate features for a moment longer before he finally got control of himself again. This was foolish, and if he showed such affection for her around the nobles, she would be dead within a fortnight. And so he had retreated from her room, cursing his weakness.

Hawke brought out the weaker side of him, the man who had believed in the innate good of mankind and the kindness of the faithful. It almost made him sick to his stomach, knowing that when she finally saw him for who he was now, she would probably leave. They had both changed so much over such a short amount of time, and it made his chest ache. He missed her bawdy jokes, quick wit, and sharp tongue. Seeing her scared, paranoid, and suspicious broke his heart all over again, and he wished that the world hadn't crumbled around them. Hawke could have become Viscountess of Kirkwall and they could have been married, creating the strongest union in the Free Marches. But she had been stubborn and stuck to her convictions, tearing herself apart even more. And now here she was, a fugitive being hidden within the Starkhaven keep.

"Is she inside?"

Looking up at the familiar voice, Sebastian locked eyes with Fenris and nodded. The elf scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. Even after coming to Starkhaven for work after Isabela turned to legal maritime trade, Fenris had held deep contempt for Hawke, and Sebastian readied himself for a lecture from his bodyguard.

"In case you forgot, Sebastian, she led the mages in a rebellion that almost destroyed Kirkwall and turned the world upside down," Fenris snarled, pacing the hall. "She's a fugitive, wanted by the Templars and the Chantry, and harboring her is only going to bring us grief. For all we know, she may turn the mages against us and destroy what you've built up."

Speeches like this had become commonplace for him in the past three months, ever since Isabela had set herself up in Starkhaven and brought news of Hawke to him. Fenris saw her for the weakness she was, and the fact that he had taken her in obviously angered him. Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to banish the headache that was threatening to rise.

"She's also the only person who can calm them down and make them go back to the Circle, Fenris," he responded, keeping his voice calm. "And if you remember, she only sided with the mages because Meredith had become insane and wanted to kill innocents. She will see reason if we explain the situation to her."

"That would also require you showing her how you've changed." Fenris hit a sore spot there, and he was aware of it. "As I thought. You can't lie to her and expect her to stay. For all we know, she may stab you in the back and go on the run again. She is an assassin."

"Enough." Sebastian's voice was sharp, and his hands had curled into fists at his side. "My advisors have also decided that she will stay here for the time being. She's an important asset, no matter how much you dislike her. And if you remember, she's also a very close friend of Isabela's. Hurting Hawke or turning her in won't do you any favors with her."

Fenris's face reddened at that and Sebastian allowed himself a moment to be smug. Bringing up the Rivaini woman almost always got him what he wanted, and he suspected he was doing Isabela a favor as well. Muttering angrily under his breath, Fenris threw his hands up and turned to leave.

"Then do as you wish, Sebastian. But when she stabs you in the back, I won't be there to protect you." He retreated into the shadows of the hall and Sebastian relaxed again, leaning back against the door.

As much as he hated to admit it, Fenris had brought up a very valid point. Sebastian couldn't keep lying to Hawke, keep her in the dark. He had to tell her what had happened, since he suspected she didn't know about the fate of her other companions. And he had to tell her about the part she played in Starkhaven as well. Straightening, Sebastian walked towards his room, casting a glance over his shoulder at the room were Hawke slept peacefully. All of this longing that had risen in his chest was going to be the end of him. He knew very well that he had to marry one of the women paraded around in front of him, Starkhaven nobility who would be delighted to have their daughter rise above all others and marry a prince.

For seven months, Saoirse Hawke had haunted Sebastian's dreams. Now she was here, and his dreams turned to things that could have been, should have been. Upon waking drenched in sweat and roused from a particularly pleasant dream where Hawke had been stripped down to her smalls, he decided now was definitely the time to tell her everything.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Author here! Sorry it took so long to get this out. School was really getting the best of me last week, what with essays and midterms. I also apologize for how short this chapter is, but I promise the next one will be nice and long! That's also when everything is gonna start happening, promise. I just wanted to get things set up first. Thank you for your patience, dear readers!

**Chapter Four**

Hawke was startled out of sleep early the next morning by a soft knock on the door. As her eyes opened, she tried to remember why she was in these strange surroundings. Everything that had happened the day before came rushing back and she groaned, rolling out of that impossibly soft bed and stretching. Her back gave a creak of protest, but she padded over to the door and opened it. A young girl, maybe fifteen, stood there and looked startled by Hawke's appearance. Obviously Sebastian hadn't warned the girl about how feral Hawke looked. But she quickly hid her surprise and cleared her throat, trying her best to be polite.

"Prince Vael has requested that you meet him in his study for breakfast, Serah Hawke," she squeaked out, tucking a stray strand of fiery red hair back into her cap. "There are clothes laid out in the bath for you."

Grunting, Hawke abruptly shut the door and headed towards the bath that was attached to the room. That had probably been incredibly rude of her, but manners and being polite had been the first things she had abandoned in the forests of the Free Marches. She could imagine the girl going to the other servants and spreading tales of the feral woman the prince had taken back. Once more, she would be the subject of gossip. Just like old times.

Peeling off the tunic she had worn to bed, Hawke stepped to the bath, pouring in some lavender oil before sliding in. A long, soft sigh escaped her lips as she let herself sink further into the steaming water. This bath almost felt as good as the one she had taken the day before, but she quickly scrubbed herself down and rinsed her hair before climbing out. After all, she didn't want to leave the crown prince of Starkhaven waiting for her. When she saw the jerkin and trousers that had been laid out for her, a smile curled up the corners of her lips. So he had still remembered that she preferred the freedom of men's clothing to women's. She would have to thank him for that later.

After dressing herself and brushing out her unruly hair, Hawke ventured outside of the room. The enormity of the keep finally settled on her, now that she wasn't worrying about sneaking through it. Its size almost scared her, and she kept close to the inner walls, shying away from windows and the servants who roamed the halls doing their work. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of searching, Hawke found Sebastian's study and slipped in. letting out a relieved sigh.

Hawke's relief was very short lived, however. When she saw an all-too-familiar elf standing by Sebastian's side, she tensed up and let out a low growl. Fenris shot a look at Sebastian before turning back to Hawke, clasping his hands behind his back. Other than his new armor, he looked exactly like he had the day he had left with Isabela. Her shock and fear were soon replaced with confusion and the growl died in her throat.

"Now that you aren't acting like a mad dog, I suppose it's safe to greet you, Hawke," Fenris said, voice clipped. He was very obviously not happy that she was in the keep, and wasn't making any effort to hide how he felt. "It's been a while."

"Seven months," Hawke replied, straightening her back. "I thought you were out terrorizing the seas with Isabela."

"Things change," was the elf's only response. He fell silent and looked down at Sebastian, who had remained seated during this exchange.

As her gaze wandered down to the prince, Hawke let herself really take him in. She had still been frightened and suspicious when he had caught her, but now she could examine him. Despite the long seven months he had spent taking back Starkhaven, he barely looked a day older than when he had left. The soft lines at the corners of his eyes and deepened, but that was the only thing that showed he was almost thirty years old. He no longer wore the shiny white armor she remembered, but a dark grey tunic with the crossed arrows of Starkhaven embroidered on the pocket in bright yellow thread. It was made from fine fabric, and accentuated his musculature well. She couldn't see him below the waist, but she suspected he was wearing breeches and boots as always, probably made of fine cotton and cured leather. She felt his startlingly blue eyes on her and turned her gaze to his desk, admiring the food set out.

"Are those fish and egg pies?" Hawke blurted out, unable to hide her curiosity. Her stomach rumbled loudly and Sebastian chuckled, motioning for her to sit in a chair opposite him.

"It must have been a while since you've had a proper meal. But yes, these are fish and egg pies," Sebastian replied, watching as Hawke dove into the food. Whatever manners he had seen her display in Kirkwall were gone now as she shoveled food into her mouth using her hands, letting out appreciative grunts every once in a while. Fenris looked absolutely horrified, his lips peeled back in a sneer as he edged further away from the ravenous woman. Time had definitely made her feral.

Finally, she finished off the pies and licked her fingers, food still clinging to her face as well. Hawke leaned back in her chair and let out a loud burp, both Sebastian and Fenris staring at her in shock. She simply shrugged and settled back, still licking her fingers and hands clean.

"Now that you've finished eating, I have something to tell you," Sebastian began, glancing at Fenris. The elf gave him a nod, almost looking pleased. Turning back to Hawke, he folded his hands in front of him. "It's about why you're here."

"You need help with the mages, I know," Hawke said, waving a dismissive hand and blowing a stray stand of hair out of her eyes. "You don't have to convince me. I'm just glad you're letting me stay here, Sebastian. That's really kind of you. And I'm glad you're still yourself, even after all this time."

Sebastian opened his mouth to respond, but the hesitant smile on Hawke's face silenced him. How long had it been since he'd seen her smile? Not just the seven months since he'd left, but years before that. Despite all the jokes she had cracked back then, smiles were rare from her. Even though he could feel Fenris's glare trying to burn a hole through the back of his head, Sebastian smiled and sat back.

"Faith keeps you strong in hard times, Hawke," Sebastian lied, the words slipping out of his mouth easily. "And I always have room for an old friend. Explaining why you are here will be hard, considering the Chantry's presence here, but I am sure that I can convince them to let you stay."

The relief on Hawke's face sent a stab of guilt through his chest, but he kept up his smile. The more he lied, the deeper he sank into a hole that he wasn't sure he could climb his way out of. Hawke was no longer the easy-going, charming woman she had been, even with all the loss she had dealt with. Now she was feral, suspicious, not willing to trust those around her.

"Just let me know when you need me, Sebastian," Hawke said. "It'll be nice to get out."

As Hawke walked out of his study, Fenris shot Sebastian a look that made him shrink back against his chair. The elf was furious, and rightly. He had promised to tell her the truth, and in the end had only furthered the lie even more.

"When she stabs you in the back, I won't be there to stop her." That was all Fenris said before walking out of the study, slamming the door behind him. Sebastian groaned and buried his face in his hands.

Even after all of this time, he always did the wrong things around Hawke.


End file.
